


maybe i'm a crook

by missbenzedrine



Series: lead you through this wonderland (fem!reddie 'verse) [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Affairs, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Extramarital Affairs, F/F, Fem!Reddie, Genderswap, Infidelity, Lesbian Sex, Not Beta Read, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, genderbent, idk I just wanted some lesbian reddie, lesbian!reddie, let's hope this isn't awful, so here it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22179763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbenzedrine/pseuds/missbenzedrine
Summary: After nearly dying in Derry, Eddie finds herself in a sticky situation -- Richie Tozier's bed. Despite being torn by gut-wrenching guilt for cheating on her husband, it certainly isn't the last time. But she can't keep things the way they are, despite how much she wants to. Richie wants her to decide: him...or her?It's the hardest thing Eddie's ever had to do.____aka Lesbian Reddie -- for all the queer Reddie loving fems out there <3
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: lead you through this wonderland (fem!reddie 'verse) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597093
Comments: 15
Kudos: 271





	maybe i'm a crook

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so there's a serious shortage of gender bent fics in this fandom, and I really wanted some lesbian!reddie, so I made this. this is like my first time writing girl-on-girl sex, so don't judge me too much, okay? 
> 
> anyway, the title is from the song 'love love love' by of monsters and men (also quoted at the beginning) because i think it goes super well with the piece. so if you so desire, listen to the song first/after/during because I think it goes well. 
> 
> also, I was trying to be like creative with the format, so the timeline jumps around a lot. I tried to make it clear, but just in case...if I say a time, it's a flashback, if I don't it's like "present" day -- sorry if that's confusing 
> 
> no beta...haven't read over it much, it's just kind of thrown together. so I hope it's not awful. I'll probably read over it tomorrow when I'm not horribly tired and correct glaring errors 
> 
> TW: pretty explicit extramarital affair -- Eddie is very much so married for most of this.

_Well, maybe I'm a crook for stealing your heart away  
Yeah, maybe I'm a crook for not caring for it  
Yeah, maybe I'm a bad, bad, bad, bad person  
Well, baby, I know.  
  
And these fingertips  
Will never run through your skin  
And those bright blue eyes  
Can only meet mine across the room filled with people that are less important than you.  
  
All 'cause you love, love, love  
When you know I can't love  
You love, love, love  
When you know I can't love  
You love, love, love  
When you know I can't love you  
  
So I think it's best we both forget before we dwell on it  
The way you held me so tight  
All through the night  
'Til it was near morning  
  
'Cause you love, love, love  
When you know I can't love  
You love, love, love  
When you know I can't love  
You love, love, love  
When you know I can't love you_

-‘love love love’ , of monsters and men

Eddie woke up with a mouth full of curly black hair, almost choking as she pushed the bob away from her. Richie barely stirred. The other woman was curled up against Eddie’s chest, having kicked the sheets off of them in the middle of the night. Her faded red Nirvana tshirt rode up around her hips, and Eddie let her eyes drift down, taking in the pair of cotton underwear printed with repeating patterns of characters from the Simpsons, that stretched around her slim hips. She knew from experience that this was just one pair from a set in varying colors. Richie’s legs were pulled up to her chest, and Eddie could just barely see the pebbling on her skin, cold from laying out in the open air.

She rolled her eyes and reached down, grabbing the blanket and tugging it back up over them, and, in her sleep, Richie hummed gratefully, pushing back against Eddie’s front.

Eddie’s arm curled around her waist, her lips pressing a soft, warm kiss against the back of Richie’s neck. She wouldn’t have to be up for work for another half hour, she figured, with a glance at the hotel clock. Nevertheless, she’d never been particularly good at getting back to sleep after waking up, so she rolled over, fingers blindly moving over the bedside table, over Richie’s glasses, over her deserted ring, until she landed on her phone, pulling it up, the bright screen burning her eyes in the still-dark room.

Three missed calls from her husband, accompanied by eight text messages.

 **Marv (11:02PM):** Hey, how’s the conference?

 **(11:05PM):** Miss you.

 **(11:10PM):** Don’t forget tomorrow you have to take your cholesterol medication and…

She stopped reading, locking her phone with a groan. She set it back on the table and rolled back into Richie, squeezing her arms around her. Suddenly, she wanted Richie up, wanted her to appreciate that Eddie was there, was wrapped around her and not at home with her husband. And maybe it was wrong, but she needed to remind herself that there was a reason she’d made this horrible decision, that she continued to make this horrible decision.

Her thigh pressed up between Richie’s tangling her legs with the taller woman’s, her lips pressed warmly to the back of her shoulder. She trailed a hand down, fingers pressing teasingly against the front of Richie’s panties, applying just enough pressure, slowly massaging her fingers against her until Richie made a sound in her sleep, her hips moving just enough that Eddie knew she was getting somewhere. When she slipped her fingers under the elastic band of Richie’s underwear, she was pleased to find her warm and wet. She circled her clit, kissing her neck, sucking the spot just under Richie’s ear. Maybe it was immature, but she loved marking Richie up, leaving little reminders of herself – things that makeup would have to cover when Richie went on stage. Though, there were a couple times, when Eddie watched the playbacks, that she could tell Richie told them to leave the hickeys alone. It never failed to get Eddie hot.

Richie began to move against her more animatedly, a hand going back to tangle in Eddie’s hair behind her. “It’s not even seven. Fuck you,” Richie’s voice, sleep heavy and strained made Eddie giggle.

“Well, that was the idea. Yeah,” she said, slipping two fingers inside of her, her thumb still working over her clit.

“Have I ever told you this is my favorite way to wake up? This and like a really greasy bacon egg and cheese sandwich.”

“God. You’re fucking gross,” Eddie mumbled, nipping at Richie’s earlobe. “Don’t you live in LA? Can you even find bacon out there?”

“Yeah. I know people with hookups in with the bacon black mark—” She cut herself off when Eddie curled her fingers just right inside of her, a gasp catching on her lips. “ _Fuck_ you, dude.”

Eddie chuckled, propping herself up over Richie to catch her bottom lip between her teeth. “Yeah? That good for you, Trashmouth?”

“Beep beep,” Richie’s voice was weak as she brought a hand up to Eddie’s curls, tugging on her hair.

“Hey, that’s my line.” She brought her fingers out and relentlessly rubbed circles over Richie’s clit, knowing exactly what the other woman needed to get her just _there._ And before she knew it, Richie was clenching her thighs around her hand, letting sounds fall from her lips that Eddie had previously called _close to godly –_ not that Richie needed that kind of ego boost.

She worked her through her orgasm, peppering kisses all over Richie’s cheek and neck, until the other woman went limp in her arms.

* * *

_Five months previous…_

“I mean, let’s get real for a second. You honestly think that with the amount of ass I get on a regular basis, I would get _married?_ That’s just counterproductive. And I resent the suggestion. _”_

As she watched, Richie’s ringlets bounced around her face, animating her words, a messy, unkempt nest of dark swirls and curly-Q’s. It was shorter now than it’d been when they were kids. Eddie could remember the way that Richie’s voice had sounded, complaining about her mother’s insistence that she kept her hair long: _It’s just so fucking inconvenient!_ But now, she kept it short, it seemed, cut so that it hit just below her chin. She kept pushing her fingers through it, messing with her glasses when she did – that was an old tick. Eddie remembered that one. But what she didn’t remember quite so well, were the high cheekbones, the soft angles of her jaw and the laugh lines that had settled in around Richie’s eyes. The light from the dim Chinese Restaurant lamps hit her face just the right way, making her seem like a painting brought to life.

“Yeah. Rachel Tozier? Married? I have a feeling we’ll see the apocalypse first.”

“Thank you, Bev. At least someone realizes, when you’ve got an ass like this, you don’t chain it down.”

“I think she was actually saying that she didn’t know what sane man would put up with your bullshit Trashmouth for the rest of his life,” Eddie piped in, looking over at Richie with a raised eyebrow.

Bev’s cackles broke the tension in the air as Richie stared back at her, meeting Eddie’s eyes with an expression that she didn’t quite know how to read. After a moment, though, Richie took a swig of her drink and held up a finger. “ _True,”_ she said and let out a laugh, mirthless. “But not all of us can find a hubby who loves us the same way as our mothers, can we, Eds?”

“Hey look, asshole, Marvin is a genuinely caring—”

“Shots!” Ben raised his own beer glass, cutting Eddie off mid-sentence. She shot a glare at him, but in his gaze she recognized a silent warning: _probably best to cut this one off, right, Eds?_

Fine. He was right.

Things shifted then, and regardless of any lingering tension between them, Eddie could feel herself reconnecting with her old gang. It just fit – always had. The seven of them had been inseparable at one point, and she could feel that familiarity resurfacing between them, filling in the holes that had been left empty for so long.

Especially Richie. Several times, she looked over, saw her blue eyes staring back at her. She never tore her gaze away, though, simply smirked when Eddie returned the look. It would be creepy if it weren’t so fucking _Richie._

Later, when they found themselves back at the Derry Townhome, Richie ranting about how they were all insane to come back here, and Eddie mostly staying silent, trying to think, Eddie just naturally went to Richie’s room, sat on her bed. It was almost like she was thirteen again, and Richie was still the one thing that made sense to her.

But as Richie carried on, arms flailing, cursing each and every one of the other Losers individually and in-depth, Eddie could feel that old tightening in her chest. She hadn’t carried her inhaler in years, had forced herself to learn how to deal with moments like these. And recently, she’d even reached a point where she had stopped even keeping one _just in case._ Which was a stupid decision, she realized just then, because all of her coping mechanisms just went straight out the window at that moment and she started to feel like she was choking on the oppressive, antique air in the room.

“Oh, and don't even get me _started_ on Mike...Eds?” Richie suddenly stopped talking and came over, sitting beside her on the mattress. Her hand gingerly rubbed circles into Eddie’s back, and her fingers were gentle as she carded through Eddie’s hair. “Hey, it’s okay,” she said calmly. “I’m sorry for freaking out. We’ll get through this…”

Slowly, Eddie felt her chest unwinding, and the air filled her lungs properly again. Her eyes drifted closed, and she just barely registered her own movements as she curled up against Richie, practically crawling into the other woman’s lap.

“I’m sorry, Rich,” she said quietly, words half-mumbled against Richie’s shirt.

“Don’t apologize. This is a perfectly normal reaction to learning you’re about to die.”

Eddie couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up in her chest. She pulled away and looked up at her, a smile playing on her lips. “In all seriousness though, why haven’t you gotten married? You’re a total catch.”

Richie laughed then, a sound without much behind it. “You flatter me, Kaspbrak. But…it’s not like I didn’t have a few suitors back in the day. Just…wasn’t ever for me, you know?”

“Ah, I see. Trashmouth Tozier isn’t the type of girl who can be pinned down.”

“No. No, that’s…um. That’s not what I meant, actually.” Her cheeks flushed and Eddie sat up a bit more, curious. Richie wasn’t the kind of person to get flustered often, if at all.

“What then?”

Richie rolled her eyes – the message clear: _Come on, do I really have to say it?_ “I’m gay, Eds. Like…super fucking gay.”

“Oh… _Oh._ Okay. That makes a lot of sense actually.”

“Oh, does it?” Richie raised an eyebrow, trying to seem as if she were offended. Eddie knew better though. She blushed anyway.

“Yeah. I mean…just look at the clothes you wear.” She gave a half-smile, looking down over Richie’s Hawaiian shirt, unbuttoned to reveal an old faded tshirt underneath with some kind of vintage ad on it. It was so faded out, Eddie could only barely guess it was a Fanta logo or something, where a cartoon orange was cracking a joke. But then again, it might also just be really shitty tie-dye. Her jeans were dark, ripped at the knee, like a teenager would wear nowadays. “I mean, you definitely dress like a fifteen-year-old-girl going through a lesbian phase.”

“I—” Her face cracked and she let out an energized laugh. “Yeah, okay,” she said between chuckles. “You got me there, Spaghetti. I still have shirts I wore when I was fifteen, so I really can’t complain about that one.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me in the least.”

Richie simply smiled, a resigned, if not accepting quirk of her lips. Her fingers absently curled in Eddie’s wavy hair – which she kept neat and precisely styled most of the time, out of an ingrained perfectionism she’d never been able to shake. Richie's fingers in her hair worked through those perfections, though, creating a peaceful chaos from the roots and Eddie felt herself relax, curling her arms around her childhood friend.

That night, she’d slept in Richie’s bed, curled up against her chest, Richie’s fingers warmly pressed under the hem of her shirt. Eddie couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so safe, even in the wake of impending doom.

* * *

“So I’ve been thinking—”

“Oh shit. We all know that’s dangerous.” Eddie grinned, turning her head to look at Richie, who rolled her eyes, sticking out her tongue at her, like the mature thirty-something she was. In the light of the orgasm she’d just had, Richie was slower on the uptake than usual and she simply hummed, rolling onto her side. She rested her head on Eddie’s shoulder, hand traveling up under her shirt, tweaking Eddie’s nipple briefly, before settling on the space between her breasts, where, if she focused, she would probably feel the soft, content thrumming of Eddie’s heart. God. She was so fucked.

“My manager has said for a while that it could behoove me to get an apartment in New York.” Eddie felt her heart drop, and she froze. She knew exactly where this was going. “I do so many shows out here, you know? It would be smart to have a second place. I never really considered it…until, well, you know…”

“You’re gonna move to New York?” Eddie’s voice came out dry, scraped from her throat.

Richie didn’t seem to notice, her voice remaining casual. “Not move, no. Just…a second apartment. With the Netflix special and everything kind of kicking things off for me, I’m not exactly strapped for cash, so it’s not a killer to pay two rents…” She paused, finally, lifting her head to look at Eddie’s face. “I just figured, you know, it would save me a lot of flights. And I could see you more often.” A blush started to spread on her cheeks then, when she clearly didn’t see the reaction she wanted on Eddie’s face. She quickly started to backtrack, her hand pulling out from under Eddie’s shirt, leaving her cold. “I mean, it’s just an idea, Eds. I don’t have to or anything. I just figured—”

“No, that would be great, Rich. It’s just…” Eddie sat up, Richie forced to do the same as she moved, her hand reaching across Eddie’s torso to grab her glasses from the bedside table. As she did, she knocked Eddie’s wedding ring to the ground. The metal clink seemed to reverberate around the room. The silence stretched out, and Richie’s eyes filled with something distant and somber. “Richie—you know that I’m enjoying this…”

“ _But,”_ Richie continued for her, bitter. Her jaw clenched and she distanced herself from Eddie’s side slightly.

“But I’m married, Richie. We talked about this…”

“Sure, yeah. _You_ talked about it.”

“Don’t do this, Richie. We had a deal.” She felt the panic rising in her chest, and she moved closer again, only to be met with Richie’s shoulder as she turned away from her. Richie could revert to five-year-old mannerisms, it was one of her many talents.

“Right, right. Temporary. Until you get your rocks off, right? Sounds good. So…we done here, Eds? Because I think my end of the deal is complete.”

Eddie bit back a voice in her head that wanted to tell Richie that she hadn’t exactly fulfilled that part of the deal this morning. But she knew this wasn’t the time. “Why are you doing this? You’ve been okay with this arrangement until now. So why the change?”

“Because…Eddie, I mean, _fuck,_ dude. Everytime I have to get on that plane back to LA, all I can think about is you going back to _him…_ back to that asshole. And I’ve tried to tell myself that it’s for the best, or whatever. But I’m having trouble convincing myself.”

“He’s…he’s not just some asshole, ‘Chee…I married him. I made a vow.”

Richie laughed, cold and sharp as she stood up from the bed. “My god. That’s the biggest load of horse shit, Eds. Tons of people get divorced. Especially, when they find out that they’re queer as all hell. It’s not the eighties anymore, man.” She was tugging her jeans on from the floor, shaking her head.

Eddie scrambled up, standing in front of her, trying to prevent what she knew was coming – Richie storming out and avoiding her for weeks. And Richie did stop, looking at her for a moment, and in that gaze, Eddie thought for a moment, that she understood, that she could see how much Richie was hurting. But then it was gone, covered up by that emotionless mask she wore.

“Richie, can’t…can’t we just keep things like this? This is working.” She went to her, arms sliding around Richie’s thin waist, and Richie seemed to relax slightly against her.

She brought her hand up to Eddie’s cheek, and kissed her with a silent desperation, her hands going into her hair. Eddie’s breath seeped out of her into Richie, and her eyes fluttered closed. Eddie could almost feel the struggle in her, the desire to stay, but her gut telling her to leave. She ached to have something to say, to have some words that might help Richie understand.

She couldn’t just leave Marvin. It wasn’t that easy. He may not have been the best husband, and sure, sometimes he coddled her like her mother had. But he’d supported her, nonetheless. He’d been there through the rough years, the trauma therapy and the ups and downs of figuring out _proper_ medication. They weren’t soulmates, that much was obvious. But just up and leaving, simply because she’d reconnected with an old friend? That seemed flat out cruel. Of course, this was cruel as well, the secrets and the sneaking around. She’d been to eight different conferences in the last four months, had visited long lost family in California, had worked late hours – he had to be getting suspicious. But she deserved this, or at least, that was what she told herself over and over again when she woke up with Richie’s arms around her, or when she felt Richie slip into those dark, intimate places. When she felt the _love_ that Richie had for her. It was a different kind of love. It was a pure, intimate kind, something so beautiful, that she didn’t want to lose it. Thought she might die if she did.

And she did deserve that, right? Everyone deserved to be loved the way that Richie loved her – without judgement or conditions.

It just came at a price. And maybe she couldn’t afford it anymore.

Richie pulled away, her eyes darkened with sadness. Eddie had a feeling her thoughts mirrored her own more than not. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Sweet Cheeks,” she said quietly, brushing her thumb over the curve of Eddie’s cheekbone.

Eddie felt the tears well up in her eyes, and she wanted to say something, wanted some magical thing to come into her head that would fix it, would make her be able to have all of this. But she couldn’t. Because that solution didn’t exist. So instead she grabbed Richie’s shirt and pulled her into a burning kiss, backing her up against the bed. When Richie fell back against the mattress, Eddie straddled her hips, her hands in Richie’s curls, holding on tightly.

“You can’t leave me,” she said, and met her eyes, shaking her head. “Please. Rich…I need you. Please don’t leave me.” She pulled a hand away as a tear rolled down her cheek and Richie’s hands were there, long slender fingers holding her gently, cupping her face.

“Sh…baby. It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.” Richie kissed at the tears that streaked her cheeks, holding her. It wasn’t the way that Marvin held her, in those rare occasions when he did, as though he were holding some fragile object, like a vase or an antique necklace. No, Richie held her like the very act was just as comforting to her as it was to Eddie. Like they needed each other.

* * *

_Four months previous…_

**Trashmouth (10:14PM):** so i have a show in new york next week. it’s actually my comeback show…netflix is thinking about taking me on for a special, so i really have to be on my a-game.

 **(10:15) :** was wondering if you might want to come as my good luck charm. i can get you a ticket.

The texts showed up on Eddie’s phone screen, and she blushed, realizing that she had yet again forgotten to change her phone settings to hide messages when her phone was locked. Marvin was sat next to her on their couch, shoving a handful of popcorn in his mouth as the fourth (or fifth? ) _Mission Impossible_ movie played on the screen. She didn’t particularly care for the films, so she’d been scrolling on her phone anyway. When she read the messages, she tried to stand inconspicuously.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” she said, taking her phone with her. Her husband simply grunted in acknowledgement.

She closed the bathroom door behind her, sitting cross-legged on the toilet seat cover as she opened the texts. She couldn’t help but smile.

 **Eds Spagheds (10:20PM) :** Sounds good. Hope you mean two tickets, though. My husband gets a kick out of your particular brand of vulgar comedy.

She hit send, but immediately regretted the message, biting her bottom lip as she stared at the little ‘typing’ bubble for what felt like way too long. So she typed out another message.

 **(10:22PM) :** Kidding. Of course. Marvin hates your shows. I would love to come.

The bubble disappeared much more quickly this time and she let out a sigh of relief when the next message came through.

 **Trashmouth (10:23) :** ok. great. i’ll talk to my manager about getting you a ticket.

Eddie was just about to lock her phone up and head back out, when another text came through. As she read it, her heart sped up. She couldn’t get her fingers to type out any kind of response.

 **(10:25) :** i’ll have a hotel room too, if you’re interested. don’t know if you think you could get away for the night.

 **(10:25) :** i’ve been thinking a lot about that night in derry.

 **(10:26) :** been thinking a lot about you, eds.

 **(10:26) :** i know we said it would be a one-time thing. but i can’t get you out of my head.

 **(10:28) :** sorry, i’ve been drinking. i’ll leave you alone.

A knock on the bathroom door made Eddie jump, just about throwing her phone in the sink. 

“You okay in there, Eddie?” Marvin’s voice carried through the wood of the door, and Eddie swallowed back the prickling in her throat. “Are you having any IBS symptoms, because you know Dr. Penstler—”

“I’m fine, Marv. Please. Leave me alone.”

She heard him sigh, but thankfully walked away, and she went back to staring down at her phone, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Her hands were shaking.

Another message popped up in the chat though, just as she was about to type some kind of stupid excuse.

 **(10:32) :** i lied. i can’t leave you alone. i am drunk though.

This message was followed by a photo, and Eddie’s eyes went wide as she clicked it into full screen. Richie, taking a selfie, was clearly sat on her bed, in a bright red silk bra. Her hair, as usual was a mess around her face, and she was sticking out her tongue. In her hand was a beer bottle, and she stuck up the peace sign.

Eddie gulped.

Hesitantly, she glanced at the door, fingers going to the ring that seemed to be glaring at her. She sighed and squeezed her eyes closed, before typing her response.

 **Eds Spagheds (10:34) :** I’ll be there. Send me the details.

 **(10:34) :** I’ll figure out how to get away for the night.

And that was the beginning of the end.

* * *

“Look,” Richie said. They were stood in the hotel lobby, Eddie dressed for work, and Richie with her bag packed, dressed…well, like she usually was. She had a stark purple bruise on her neck though, and if she looked closely, Eddie could make out the light bruising on her wrists where she’d held them down the previous night. In a different situation, she’d find that enticing. Not now though. Now, Richie’s face told her that things had to change. Eddie didn’t like this look. “I can’t keep doing this,” she said with a resigned sounding sigh. “I think…I think that it’s pretty fucking obvious how I feel. What I want. So I’m not going to say it.”

“Why not?” Eddie asked, her voice cracking slightly. Maybe if she heard it, maybe…

Richie stepped closer to her then, her fingers coming up to the side of Eddie’s neck. A part of her always flinched, always wanted to pull away when they were in public. That part of her brain still hadn’t turned off. But it didn’t matter now, not like it did back then. If they even got a look now, it was rare, and usually followed by a _I support it, don’t worry_ , smile.

“Because I’m not going to say it until I think I’ll hear it back,” she told her quietly. She leaned in and pressed a lingering, breath-taking kiss to Eddie’s lips, holding her. When she pulled away, Eddie could have sworn she saw her eyes watering. “Just…decide. Okay? If you don’t want this…if you don’t want _me,_ that’s fine. You just need to make a decision, Eds.”

With that, she gave her a sad smile, squeezed her hand and walked out the front doors.

Eddie felt like she was ripping her heart out as she went.

* * *

_Five months previous…_

When you get as close to death as Eddie did that day, you take life by the fucking balls and you make it your bitch. Or at least, that was what her adrenaline-fueled mind told her.

It had been Richie who saved her, who pushed her out of the way just before Pennywise shishkebabed her chest into next Sunday. And then it was Richie again who snapped her out of her ensuing panic attack, clutching at her chest as she realized that she had been _that close_ to death. Like actual, real death. Like dead death.

“Eddie. Wake up. We need to get the fuck out of here,” Richie said, snapping her fingers in front of Eddie’s face. Vaguely, she’d registered the killing of It, the finality of it. But in that moment, she had to fight to hang on to that little bit of sanity.

And when they’d finally reached, sweet, sweet, blissful sunlight once again, she’d wrapped her arms around Richie’s waist so tightly she’d been afraid she’d break her. Niebolt fell. _Thank fucking God._

But that adrenaline rush, the voice in her head saying _fuck fuck fuck_ over and over again until she actually did think she might lose it, all that didn’t go away. Not until they’d gotten back to the Townhome, prepared to pack up, nearly nighttime by the time they had gotten back from the quarry. She’d grabbed Richie’s hand, frantic almost, and not even caring when Mike and Ben each gave her a look. They could go fuck themselves at that very moment for all she cared. Because she dragged Richie back to her bedroom and slammed the door shut behind them.

And then, well, then she wasn’t sure what her intention was, but she did know that the look on Richie’s face was absolutely priceless—somewhere between utter shock, confusion, and if she wasn’t mistaken, a little bit of excitement. So she walked over, and shoved Richie back against the door, fingers curled in her shirt as she crashed their lips together. A soft sound of shock from Richie quickly turned into one of relief as her hands came up to plant themselves in Eddie’s hair, like that was the one thing grounding her to reality.

When Eddie pulled away, it was really only because she thought her lungs might explode, and her breath came out in desperate pants as she did.

“Fuck, Eddie, I—” Richie tried, but Eddie quickly shook her head, shutting her up.

“No. Stop. Don’t talk. I just…I want this. I want _you_.”

Richie stared at her for a long moment, as if assessing the reality of the situation, before she nodded, eager. “Well, alrighty then,” she said and tugged her shirt off over her head, dumping it on the ground. Her hands came down to Eddie’s hips and she pushed her back until her knees hit the mattress, plopping down on her ass. She stared up at Richie, who was smiling, her bottom lip pulled back with her teeth. “Off,” she said, pointing at her shirt and gesturing up. Eddie obliged without a second thought, tossing her own shirt on the ground. And then Richie was pushing her back against the mattress, nudging Eddie’s legs apart to position herself between them. Her fingers skirted over Eddie’s side as she kissed her going to her bra clasp at her back. Eddie made a sound of approval and Richie unhooked it with a flick of her fingers (in some dark corner of her mind, Eddie’s brain realized there was a joke there about her husband’s ineptness with bra clasps, but she pushed that away…he didn’t belong here, not now).

Eddie wrapped her legs around Richie’s waist as her bra was tugged off, leaving her exposed and utterly aware of that state of things. Richie seemed pleased, though, so Eddie didn’t think too much about it. Richie’s thumb brushed her nipple, lips following her hand until she took the bud between her teeth. Eddie let out a surprised yelp at the sensation, hands going to Richie’s hair.

“Rich, I’ve never—” she started and Richie pulled her head up, glasses askew on her nose.

She sat back then, on her knees and reached behind herself, unclasping her own bra. “It’s okay, baby, I know,” she said, and the words were more reassuring than Eddie could have imagined. Eddie propped herself up on her elbows to watch, cheeks flushing as Richie’s bra was tossed to the ground carelessly. Her nipples stood hard and dark against her pale chest and Eddie just wanted to touch, wanted to be closer. So she pulled Richie in for another kiss, hands going to her breasts, humming into Richie’s mouth as Richie pushed her further up the bed, starting to fiddle with her jeans. Eddie became impatient with that process rather quickly and reached down. “Funky clasp,” she muttered, and Richie chuckled, looking down between them as Eddie finally managed to yank her jeans off, pulling her underwear with them.

When Richie looked back up at her, her eyes were dark, pupils blown to about twice their previous size. “Can I eat you out?” Richie asked, and her voice was so serious, lacking any of Richie’s typical joke-cracking, lightheartedness, that Eddie almost cracked up.

“Well, that’s kind of what I was hoping fo—”

Richie grabbed her hips and sunk down between her thighs, almost immediately sliding two fingers inside of her. Eddie flushed in surprise from the suddenness of it, but quickly brought her hands down to Richie’s hair, pulling it back out of her face, since that seemed like the appropriate action. When Richie started to suck on her clit, she let out a moan, rolling her hips down against Richie’s face.

She would admit, her husband had never actually made her orgasm. There were a couple of times in her life when Eddie had actually _enjoyed_ sex, but those were few and far between. And she’d definitely never orgasmed.

But right then, with Richie’s face buried between her thighs, she thought she might lose it right away. And for just a second, she had the thought, _so this is what it’s supposed to feel like,_ before Richie quirked her fingers inside of her just the right way, and Eddie felt her release build up in her stomach, eyes squeezed closed and Richie’s name on her lips as her back arched off the mattress.

Richie crawled up beside her on the mattress as she came down, throwing an arm around Eddie’s waist and kissed her cheek. “You have no idea how hot that was,” she mumbled lazily.

“Do you want me to return the favor?” Eddie asked, rolling into her arms. She felt lightheaded, and smiled wanly as she met Richie’s eyes. _God, she’s so fucking gorgeous._ The thought ran through her head, unbidden.

Richie nodded. “In a minute,” she said and curled her arms around her, fingers trailing over her spine. “I’ll let you bask for a little bit.”

Eddie rolled her eyes, but cuddled closer. “How considerate of you.”

“I try babe, I try,” Richie said with a chuckle. She paused, but the way her breath caught in her throat, told Eddie she wanted to say something else. “So…” Ah, there it was. “I’m assuming this is a _holy shit we didn’t die_ fuck, right?”

“Yeah, something like that. Is that okay?” Eddie asked.

There was only a hint of hesitation, before Richie beamed at her. “It’s okay with me, Sweet Cheeks, if it’s okay with you…”

* * *

After that morning in the hotel, Eddie didn’t talk to Richie for nearly a month. She thought that maybe Richie would call, or text. Typically, Richie initiated things, asked if Eddie was free, or if she wanted to plan things. Really the only time that Eddie had started something was the first time, back in Derry.

But she didn’t. She seemed to be holding herself to her word, and for someone with a demonstrated poor will power, Eddie was pretty disappointed. But it did force her to confront her demons, to deal with the reality of her situation. Her situation being that she was in a relationship that had run its course a long, long time ago. She wasn’t happy. Hadn’t been for a while.

And maybe it took Richie’s slap of sense to make her realize it. Maybe she’d been fooling herself, thinking that she could have one foot in both worlds and just make it work.

But it was one night, as she and Marvin sat in their living room, watching the evening news, that Eddie had finally realized it.

Ironically enough, the new reporter was announcing the birth of a baby to a same sex couple in lower New York state, via a donor, saying more and more same sex couples have been pleased with the results of similar such situations in recent years.

“Can you believe this shit, Eddie?” her husband said, shoving a piece of plain white chicken into his mouth as he stared at the screen. “I mean, a kid needs a mom and a dad, you know?”

She was watching him intently, jaw working in aggravation.

“I mean, if it’s a boy, who’s gonna give him the talk, you know? Two chicks don’t understand what it’s li—”

“I want a divorce.” Her own words shocked even her, and she lifted her hand, covering her own mouth.

He paused and looked over at her slowly. “What?”

“I want a divorce. I’m leaving.” And well, where the hell that came from, she didn’t know. But now it was there, so she supposed she couldn’t back out. Something in her chest twisted and she stared at him, gauging his reaction, as though she were watching an intense TV show, on the edge of her seat moment-to-moment. But at the same time, she couldn’t care less. He could say any number of things and she wouldn’t give a shit.

Fuck. That was freeing.

She stood up, taking her own dinner plate into the kitchen. He followed, his heavy footsteps trudging in behind her as she calmly scrubbed her plate and set it to dry.

“What the hell are you talking about, Eddie?” he snapped.

“I’m talking about beginning divorce proceedings,” she said, staring down at the sink. She felt bad, of course she did. But she also felt for the first time since all of this started, that she was doing the right thing. “My…my heart isn’t in this anymore, Marv…”

“Eddie… _Edna_. What—” he started and then huffed back something, maybe a threat or a sudden irrational reaction. Didn’t matter. It was all the same.

“I’m sorry, Marv,” she said, her eyes beginning to water. “Really, I am…” With that, she turned, went up to their bedroom and began to pack.

* * *

It wasn’t easy to get out of the house, what with Marvin tugging at her arm, giving her every reason in the book that she shouldn’t leave ( _Edna, you need me, Edna, who’s going to take care of you?)._ The worst part may have been how he started using her name – like her mother did. Edna. Jesus. It had never sat right.

But eventually, she’d made it, practically running to the Uber she’d called, him calling out to her. The whole time, she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt – like she was doing something wrong.

And as she stared up at the flight listings in the airport, her eyes landing on one leaving for LA in just an hour, she felt her body relax just a bit. Los Angeles. Richie. She felt warm just at the thought. Just at the idea that Richie would wrap her arms around her. _Hopefully._ Hopefully Richie hadn’t given up on her yet.

She could only hope.

* * *

Eddie hesitated, her knuckles hovering over the center of the door. She gulped back against the nerves pulsing through her.

She’d been to Richie’s apartment once before, had known the address to give her driver. She’d gone into autopilot getting here, hadn’t even packed all of the stuff she normally would have. All she had was a drawstring bag on her back with a change of clothes, a toothbrush, and her wallet. And anyone who knew Eddie at all would know that that alone was a sign she was probably going crazy.

She’d just thrown away her life, literally tossed it all down the drain, and it all came down to this? To just the off-chance that Richie wouldn’t laugh in her face and tell her that it was all just one big practical joke? Her throat felt dry, and she brought her hand down, rethinking all of it. If she left now, Marvin would probably take her back, she could talk to him. She could tell him that it was just a lapse in judgement, that she’d freaked out, that—

The door opened, and Richie just about ran into her, knocking the wind from her chest.

“What the— _Eddie?”_

“I—”

“What are you doing here?” Richie backed up a step, into her apartment, her eyes wide with shock, clearly trying to process Eddie's presence.

Eddie thought of a million things to say, a million different ways that she could tell her. She also thought about running, about just fucking ditching this whole crazy plan.

Instead she surged forward, crashing her lips with Richie’s. The other woman let out a surprised noise against her lips, but Eddie was filled with relief when she felt her melting into herself.

“I made my decision, Rich,” she said, bringing her hands up, twisting her fingers in Richie’s curls. “It’s you…it’s always been you,” she said and leaned against her, arms wrapping around her neck. God. This was what fucking Cloud 9 felt like.

“Oh, baby, you have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” Richie said, pulling her in, her arms curling around her waist.

“I love you, Richie,” Eddie breathed, her forehead pressed against Richie’s. 

Richie chuckled, the vibrations spreading through Eddie’s chest. “I love you too, Eds. God. I always have…”

They stood there, for a long time, Eddie wrapping herself up in Richie’s embrace, just full-on making out in the hallway, until Eddie pulled away, her lips reddened. “So…you gonna invite me in or what?” she asked, breath slightly ragged.

“Oh, by all means,” Richie said, grinning wide. She stood back and allowed Eddie inside, taking note of the small bag on Eddie’s back. “Did you…wait. You came from New York, and that’s all you brought?” she asked, eyes wide.

Eddie looked back at her, her cheeks blushing bright red. “I needed to see you,” she told her.

Richie grabbed her by the tshirt and pulled her into another head-spinning kiss. “You can borrow some of my clothes,” she said against her lips and smirked.

“Oh good. Now we can both be fifteen year old lesbians…”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading this <3 comments honestly give me life, and I would love to hear your thoughts. 
> 
> p.s. there is a serious possibility that I wrote this solely so that I could continue a lesbian!reddie verse/series, so if you're interested in this, stay tuned/let me know
> 
> (edit: just made this into a series? so subscribe (I think you can subscribe to a series??) if it interests you <3 )


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